Weekly Training Update (Sept 11)

Two summers ago, I wrote full-on rant about loose, poorly fenced dogs who were ruining my ability to take Lilly on a decent walk in our rural neighborhood. Today, I can report: 1) I was right about the danger. 2) Things have improved.

DANGER
One of the dogs at issue eventually bit off part of his owner’s thumb. Seriously. Chomp. We know this because an EMT friend went on the 911 call. So, I count us lucky to have gotten past this big dog who kept squaring off without injury.

There’s a whole comedy of errors that goes along with the severed thumb, but I’ll spare any of you who may be squeamish.

IMPROVEMENTS
Of the four houses with dogs of concern, only one remains an issue. The others have either moved away or are finally restrained away from the road. Once in a while those two spaniels come after us, but lately, they keep their distance. Oh, they still race toward us, barking and growling … but they stop about 20 feet from us. Their owner now calls them as soon as he sees us coming, or he recalls them even after the chase is on. It took Lilly a while to adjust to the guy’s hollering required, but she no longer thinks she is the one in trouble.

I learned recently at an engagement party in the valley that this is NOT the case for others who walk their dogs the same direction. They still refuse to walk that direction after numerous, ugly encounters with these dogs. I’m not sure if the spaniel’s owner takes pity on us or what. He is known around here as “Mean Mr. [Last Name]” or “The Dog Kicker,” so I’m pretty sure we’re not his kind of peeps, but whatever it is that has spurred the improvement … I’ll take it.

The set-up remains a training challenge, though. The spaniel house is across the street from another house with two dogs who like to bark at us too. They are well fenced, so it’s not a danger, but it freaks Lilly out.

This gauntlet, unfortunately, sits where three rural roads intersect … at the bottom of a hill, on a bit of a blind curve.

Each time, Lilly and I end up playing poor-folks’ game of Frogger, as we move one way or another so that she has enough distance from either set of dogs to keep her from freaking out with fear.

I succeed many times of late at finding just the right balance of space to keep Lilly walking, looking at me, and taking treats. We don’t look at either set of dogs. We don’t talk to them. We focus on each other and keep moving.

Once in a while, my timing is off, and Lilly shoots to the end of her leash to bark, growl, and lunge back at them, but I just keep walking until she relents and refocuses.

We could speculate that this non-confrontational strategy works better. You know the mantra as well as I do: Ignore the behaviors you do not want.

Granted, I’m sure these other dogs were trained using something other than the clicker and positive reinforcement (and the withdrawal of attention that comes with it), but I figure if I ignore them, if I tip my head and shoulders away, while keeping Lilly focused on me the best that I can, then I may just succeed at making a safety bubble for both of us to pass.

Since it’s an out-and-back route we take, that means we face this situation twice on every walk, but once we get up over the hill, we have miles of road clear from fear triggers. We walk. We relax. We smile a lot.

Last week, we met some neighbors with their leashed dog on the road near the point where we turn around. So, we walked together back to their house before heading home. Their dog, also a spaniel of some sort, isn’t great with other dogs, so we put ourselves between them and walked with the dogs to the outside. Lilly did amazingly well — relaxed, loose body, focused on me. The only time she spun and snarked at him was when he shot behind his dad and got right behind Lilly. And, let’s face it … he deserved it.

As we chatted, the dog’s mom told me that it makes her smile whenever she sees me and Lilly on the road because “You both always look so happy.”

Now that, kids, is a compliment.

Say it with me: “Thank you. It’s true.”